Chapter 10 • Liability.

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British boy's POV:

I don't get the appeal of a pub. It's loud, overcrowded and also there's too many drunk people. Especially at night. Though, I guess that is the purpose of a pub.

England and N. Ireland are already rushing ahead. Scotland is behind then while Me and Wales are behind him. I suppose this will give me insight on how these four behave in public.

"Are you lot ready to get pissed at the pub!" England cheers, N. Ireland and Scotland cheering alongside him.
Oh, lord. Have mercy.
"Are they always like this?" I half whisper to Wales.
He nods nonchalantly, though is also gleeing at what the three in front of us are cheering about.
I already dread coming along. It wouldn't be very etiquette of me to be going out to a pub at this hour. But, I decide to swallow my regrets and just go with it. A drink wouldn't do much harm.

When we arrive at the pub I can already smell the alcohol and other... Unsavoury scents in the air. I wish I had stayed at home. Us five are all sat at a table, drinks already being ordered and such. It's bloody uncomfortable. The atmosphere, the actual seating. How could someone enjoy this?

Before we've even started to drink, I notice that England and Scotland are already being particularly loud. I think N. Ireland is about to follow along, too. I keep quiet and, to my odd surprise, so too does Wales. I know he doesn't speak much, but I'd at least think he'd be more sociable in a place like this.

~~~

About an hour or two has passed. I've bearly drunk anything. I think N. Ireland has drunk the most so far, but England is definitely acting the most drunk. I actually hate it here. I shouldn't have come. This has not made me feel any better at all.

"You alright?" Wales suddenly asks me.
I had nearly forgotten he was here, that's how quiet he was. He hasn't drunk much either. He's drunk far more than me, but also far less than the other three. He's probably tipsy at best.
I look at the other three, who aren't paying much mind to us, and then speak in a low tone,
"No, not really. This isn't really up my alley at all."
He nods back in response,
"We could leave, if you want. I don't mind leaving early."
I might as well. We both get up and I already hear England ask:
"Where you two going?"
I would've said the truth, but before I uttered a single word Wales began to speak up.
"Just a bit sick. We need some fresh air - or probably head home early."
He doesn't wait for a reply, already walking off. I quickly follow behind. It was such a small thing to lie about. He really didn't need to. Regardless, we both leave and start to head back to my house. I think I heard England say something, but I couldn't make otu what he said.

"Rwy'n ei gasáu (I hate him)," I hear Wales mutter with malice.
I don't speak much of his language, but I can make out the first two words: Rwy'n (I) and ei (him). But I've not a clue what gasáu (hate) means.
"Pardwn? (Pardon?)," I ask. God, I am horrible at speaking other languages.
He looks down at me (I also realise just how short I am), with an expression that I can't help but find scary. But, he's seems calm enough, so I can't say I mind it. Maybe it's the alcohol.
"Ti'n siarad Cymraeg? (You speak Welsh?)," He asks.
"Uh..." I recognise the word Cymraeg (Welsh), but none of the other words. "I don't speak that well - or know much actually." I should've kept my mouth shut.
"I thought you only spoke English - and maybe French."
Is he joking..? I'm not quite sure.
"I speak English, French, Spanish and a bit of German... And I guess a bit of your language, too."
He smiles at the remark,
"I'll teach you some more then so you can speak it fluently."
He seems so proud that someone else rememberd his own language. I guess that's two languages I have to learn now: Russian and Welsh. We continue walking quietly for some time.

The roads are nice and quiet at night. Perfect for someone like me. Though, it can also be very eery. I hope the other three get back safely.
"Is that...?" I hear Wales mutter something, again.
What is what? What is he on about? I look around sharply, unable to see in the darkness.
"What?" I ask.
Wales stops walking and points out a figure across the road from us. They were just standing there. Menacingly. And was only illuminated by a lampost they stood next too. It takes me a moment to realise, but then I recognize them very clearly - or as clearly as you could in the darkness. It was China. Odd to see him out at this time. He easily spots us and glares us two down. I must admit, I am quite scared of him. There's just something in his expression... He awkwardly waves at us two, then calls us over. Come to think of it, he spends a lot of time with Soviet. Maybe he's nearby as well.
I start to walk over, but Wales doesn't follow. He looks around and only then does he follow behind. Was he looking out for a car across the road in case he got hit? I'm highly sure you'd hear one or see one coming at this time of night.

Once we're closer I start to see China a bit better. He's well suited up, not heavily but still formal. He even has white gloves on.
"Good evening, China," I say.
He ignores me - rude - and looks Wales up and down.
"Evening..., Wales?"
It's quite a surprise to hear that someone remembers Wales' name. I think it surprised him too. But I couldn't tell in this darkness.
"Noswaith dda (good evening), China," they both seem well aquainted with each other.
Oh! Right! Soviet had told me earlier that they spoke. It's good to see him get some recognition. Especially from someone like China.
China nods in response then looks at me,
"Evening, Britain. What brings you two out at this time?" He seems to keep more of an eye on Wales than me, "I thought Britain was sick?"
"Has Soviet not told you?" I inturrupt. I'm sure he has.
China then eyes me, adjusting his silky gloves,
"He has informed me. I'm sorry to hear about your predicament, Britian."
Wales doesn't say much, probably thinking about I'm on about. I look at him briefly,
"I told Soviet what actually happened."
"Oh. Makes sense," he tuts.
He really doesn't care about this? Honestly, I think he'd be quite good friends with Switzerland. They're both very neutral. Maybe if I find time, I'll introduce them to each other.

China's POV:

Wales is quite peculiar. Even though he's technically part of the west - NATO - he's very neutral to everything around him. I bet he'd get along well with Switzerland. I'm pulled from my thoughts when I hear Britain ask,
"What brings you out this evening?"
I don't plan to say much. I am getting rid of a liability after all, and can't have that ruined.
"Just a nightly walk. Soviet will be joining me soon."
"Really?" Britain lights up at what I've said.
Soviet really has got Britain to think he's close friend. Impressive.
"Yes. But we'll be busy soon after. I'll tell him you said 'hi'."
"Do you think you could..." He becomes shy at the thought of something.
"Go on," I encourage.
"Could you ask him to visit me, perhaps? If he's still in the country tomorrow that is!"
"Of course." I think me and Soviet - and North - won't be returning home for another day, so he might come over to visit. But I don't really care what he chooses to do or answer with.
"Come to think of it-" I hear Wales speak up, but only towards Britain.
I only just realise that Britain is much shoter than him - or anyone else he just so happens to stand next to. It's quite funny.
"-I might be here for another two days before I go back to Cardiff."
He doesn't sound very... English. Neither does Scotland though, if I remember correctly. I do like his accent though, even if it's a little tough to understand. His expression, too, is also a little tough to understand. At least he's not a liability. He seems quite alright, and it'd be a genuine shame if something happened to him. Even more if he turned out to be a liability.

We give our goodbyes shortly after. It's nice to think that he, Wales, will be replacing Britian during the meetings. The night continues on for another half hour. I hate standing in the cold. But, thankfully, Soviet arrives. He shows up quietly. I didn't hear him until he was right behind me.
"China," he starts, "sorry I took long. Just speaking with North."
Of course. North does like to go on a bit.
"It's alright."
"Have you seen him yet?"
I shake my head,
"No, but I did see Britain and the other one. He asked if you would visit him soon."
Soviet crosses his arms, "if I find time."
"... May I come along, too, if you decide to go?" I would like to see Wales again.
"Of course. I don't see why not."

The night continues for another hour. How can someone stay in a pub, of all places, for this long? I wouldn't be surprised if the sun came up any moment now, lighting up the dark alleyways that are scattered nearly everywhere.
While we both stand under the lamppost, we hear quiet chatter. It's from a trio of boys. One of them is the liability. We follow them. I hand Soviet my gloves, which he kindly takes and wears. I doubt he wants someone's mouth germs on his hand.

I notice that England is starting to trail behind. Without saying a word, Soviet knows exactly what to do next.
He begins to walk closer and quicker. Neither of the three notice.

Enlgand is trailing behind even further from the other two.

Soviet creeps up behind him.

The two at the front don't notice.

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